


an incident worth remembering

by nightswatch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because of an unfortunate incident involving an exploding potion, Sirius loses his memory for a day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	an incident worth remembering

“We have a problem,” James announces when he comes bursting into their dormitory late on a stormy Friday evening.

Remus doesn’t react. He’s been trying to proofread his potions essay for hours and keeps getting distract by several things. One of them is Peter, lounging on his bed on the other side of the room, surrounded by books and scrolls of parchment, making groaning noises. One of them is the paper ship that Sirius hexed a few days ago and that’s been sailing around their dormitory ever since and now keeps bumping against Remus’ head. James won’t become another one of those things that are distracting him.

Anyway, the problems that James usually has are connected either to Quidditch or to Lily Evans. The former Remus really can’t help him with, the latter he refuses to help him with. It makes his life much easier, because the second James found out that Remus was friends with Lily he wouldn’t stop questioning him about her until Remus simply refused to answer.

“I’m serious,” James says, more urgently, “we have a huge, massive, ginormous problem.”

“Is it your ego?” Remus mutters absent-mindedly.

“Your hair?” Peter throws in.

Remus looks up. “Your tendency to exaggerate, maybe?”

“Very funny,” James says and ruffles his hair.

Peter, from behind his books, snorts.

James waves his arms around most inelegantly. “Look, Sirius and I have been working on that memory potion that we wanted to slip the–”

“What potion?” Remus interrupts.

“Right, you were still in the hospital wing when we came up with that,” James says, nodding to himself. “Anyway,” he goes on, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, like he does when he feels guilty about something.

Remus perks up at that. “Oh no, what did you do?”

“As I said, we have a bit of a problem,” James says. He bites his lip. “Sirius blew up the potion. Well, technically I blew up the potion. The point is, the potion exploded.”

“And now he has no eyebrows?” Peter asks.

“That’s the bright side, actually, he still has eyebrows,” James says hastily. “He has no memory, though.”

It takes Remus a moment to process what exactly James just said to them. “He has no memory?”

“Yes, see, I’m not really sure how that happened,” James says, his voice steadily growing louder. “I mean, he remembers some things. But now I’m not really sure what to do with him.”

“What?” Remus scrambles off his bed. “You haven’t taken him to Madame Pomfrey?”

“And say what exactly?”

“That he has no memory and therefore can’t tell you what happened?” Remus suggests.

“Oh,” James says, “that would actually make a lot of sense.”

Remus sighs and silently says goodbye to finishing that potions essay. “Where is he?”

James leads him and Peter to one of the secret passageways they discovered ages ago. They have no idea where it leads because it collapsed before they even found it, but they’ve used it as a hideout – they once spent an entire night in here because McGonagall was lurking in the corridor.

Now Sirius is sitting on the floor, grinning at them as they enter. “Took you long enough.”

“I see his personality is still intact,” Remus mumbles. “Sirius, get up, we’re taking you to the hospital wing.”

“I feel like I should know you,” Sirius says to Remus. He turns to Peter. “And you.”

“Yes, you know all of us, now get off your ass,” James says and pulls Sirius to his feet. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Spiffing,” Sirius says and slings an arm around James.

While James and Peter lead a rather cheerful Sirius outside, Remus quickly takes care of what’s left of the potion, just in case, even though he’s sure that they’re the only ones who ever make use of this passageway.

Remus follows his friends up to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey doesn’t look too happy about them showing up on a Friday night and her mood doesn’t exactly lighten when Sirius winks at her.

“Something really strange happened to Sirius,” James explains quickly. “He doesn’t really know who he is, you see?”

“I’m Sirius,” Sirius deadpans.

“Okay, so he knows who he is, but he doesn’t know who I am. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“You’re James,” Sirius says.

“You only know that because I told you, you git.”

Madame Pomfrey lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I assume you have no idea why he can’t remember certain things?” she asks, sounding like she knows the answer to that question already.

Remus decides to stay out of it and let James do the talking because, for once in his life, he really wasn’t involved in any of this.

“I found him like that,” James says with a remarkably straight face.

“I suppose you won’t go back to your dormitory even if I ask you to,” Madame Pomfrey says. Well, Remus assumes that she has enough experience with James, Sirius, and Peter insisting on sticking around when Remus, inevitably, ends up here after each full moon. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”

One by one, they shuffle outside. James, still agitated, starts pacing up and down the corridor, while Remus leans against the wall and Peter sinks onto a wooden bench with a heavy sigh.

“He’s going to murder me,” James says and comes to a halt next to Remus. “And I deserve it. What if he never remembers?”

“Memory potion wears off after a while,” Remus says lowly. As bad as he is at brewing potions, he’s at least familiar with the theory. “But, yes, chances are that he is going to murder you.”

James groans and rests his head against the stone wall. He snorts. “You know, we could tell him anything right now and he’d believe us. We could tell him that he’s in _Hufflepuff_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Hufflepuff,” Remus says testily, but it’s mostly drowned out by James’ laughter.

Remus only listens with half an ear as James lists all the hilarious things they could make Sirius believe, sincerely hoping that Madame Pomfrey will let them back inside soon. He feels ill, and tired, and he’s worried, even though he knows that it’s unlikely that Sirius’ memory is permanently damaged. If Sirius doesn’t end up kicking James’ ass, Remus will most likely do it for him.

Minutes tick by and James’ good mood vanishes again, turning back into agitation. “How long has it been?”

“Ten minutes,” Peter says.

James lets out an annoyed huff. “Seems like more. Are you sure it’s not more?” When nobody replies, he starts pacing again and it makes Remus nervous, so he chews on his bottom lip to distract himself and listens to the constant tap-tap of Peter’s foot.

After what feels like an eternity, Madame Pomfrey finally allows them to come back inside. Sirius is sitting on one of the hospital’s beds, still looking awfully chipper. It doesn’t look like Madame Pomfrey is going to keep him here, so at least that is a good sign.

“It seems,” Madame Pomfrey says, “that Mister Black has been given some badly brewed memory potion. He hasn’t quite lost his memory as one usually does when drinking memory potion, it’s just patchy, as far as I can tell.” She bestows each of them with a stern look. “Since you three know him best, I’m going to ask you to keep an eye on him over the weekend. As far as I can tell, he can remember what he’s told now, and the rest should come back in day or two, depending on how strong that potion was.”

“So, it’s not…” James shrugs. “Permanent?”

“We won’t be able to tell for sure until it starts to wear off,” Madame Pomfrey says. “There is an antidote, but it would be unwise to use it, since the potion itself seems to have been of poor quality. I’ve notified your Head of House, I assume she’ll want to talk to you tomorrow, Mister Potter, since you’re the one who found him.” She pauses, arms folded over her chest. “And you’re sure that you have absolutely no idea how this might have happened?”

They all shake their heads, Sirius with the utmost enthusiasm.

“Well,” Madame Pomfrey says, her eyes now on Remus, “as I said, please keep an eye on him and bring him back if it gets any worse.”

“All right, mate,” James says and takes Sirius by the arm, “let’s take you back to the dormitory.”

Sirius goes with them, his eyes on Remus. “You know, I don’t know your name. It’s funny, because I know that I know it, but I can’t say it. I’ve been trying to remember, I know that I should be able to.”

“That’s Remus,” James says, “and that’s Peter. We share a dormitory. Have been for nearly six years now.”

“That’s another funny thing,” Sirius says, “I know that I’m at Hogwarts, but I have no idea where this corridor goes, I wouldn’t even know how to get to our dormitory without you guys. Well, I know that it’s in the dungeons, but that’s about it.”

Remus shares a look with Peter, then with James, all of them lost for words all of a sudden. James was joking about it earlier, but Sirius really has no idea what house he is in. He does seem to remember his upbringing, though, he knows that his entire family was in Slytherin and that he, the heir of the Blacks, therefore, should also be in Slytherin. Which he isn’t. Which is a bit unfortunate.

“Sirius,” James says and gives Sirius a pat on the back, “listen, the thing is…” He trails off, shooting Remus a helpless look.

“You’re not in Slytherin,” Remus says, because that’s what it comes down to in the end and they can’t stay in this corridor until Sirius’ memory comes back just because they don’t know how to tell him that he’s in Gryffindor.

Sirius stops dead in the middle of the corridor. “What?”

“We’re in Gryffindor, man,” James says, hands buried deep in the pockets of his trousers. Neither of them is wearing robes anymore, otherwise it would have been perfectly obvious with all the red and gold.

“Now you’re fucking with me,” Sirius says, an uncertain grin spreading over his face.

“We’re not,” Peter says. “Really.”

“Yeah, see?” James says and flicks Remus’ prefect badge with the Gryffindor lion on it.

Sirius stares at the badge for a long moment, the grin wiped off his face. “I’m in Gryffindor,” he says and suddenly all Remus sees is an eleven-year-old boy, terrified of what his family is going to think, sitting alone on his bed, not in the least bit excited to finally be at Hogwarts.

“Look, it’s fine,” James says, even though it’s really not fine, none of this is.

It dawns on Remus that Sirius doesn’t remember the relationship he has with his family. He doesn’t remember that his parents disowned him and kicked him out last summer. Remus, on a whim, grips Sirius’ arm. “It’s a long story, but don’t worry about it. You’ll remember all of it tomorrow, or the day after. It would be too, um, _complicated_ to explain it all right now.”

“Regulus is in Slytherin, isn’t he?” Sirius asks.

“He is,” Remus replies.

Sirius only sighs and starts moving again, the rest of them trailing behind him until he turns around and says, “I really don’t know where I’m going,” and James steps forward to lead the way again.

They make it through the common room without anyone noticing that Sirius is looking around in confusion and with a little too much interest for someone who’s been living here for nearly six years. Before Sirius can say anything that might give them away, they quickly usher him up the stairs.

“When you think about it,” Sirius says as Remus gently shoves him into their dormitory, “living in a tower is much better than living in the dungeons anyway.”

“It is,” Remus says, almost certain that he said something very similar to Sirius when he was moping about being sorted into Gryffindor.

“Windy, is it?” Sirius mutters, glancing out the window.

The wind is howling outside and rain is pattering against the windowpanes, but it’s something Remus got used to over the years, and so did Sirius, except that he now has no memory of it. “Nothing to worry about,” Remus says.

“Listen, just stay with us and it’ll be fine,” James says, with more conviction than Remus could hope to muster right now.

“You were there,” Sirius says. He sits down on Remus’ bed – of course he doesn’t know which one is actually his – his eyes on James.

“I was where?”

“I’m not exactly sure what happened, but the first thing I clearly remember is you asking me if I’m okay.” Sirius narrows his eyes at James. “Do you know what happened?”

James groans, now resting his head against a bedpost.

Peter laughs and flings himself onto his bed. “Yeah, James, do you know what happened?”

Remus smirks and sits down next to Sirius, carefully pushing his homework out of the way. Just in case.

“I’m really sorry,” James finally says. “Look, we were going to spike the Slytherin’s pumpkin juice with a teensy bit of memory potion, just so they’d forget what classes they had after breakfast, nothing serious…”

Remus can’t help but roll his eyes. He really can’t think of a single potion they’ve brewed that didn’t have _something_ wrong with it. Somehow, he’s still sure that they’ll never reach a point where they’ll just know better.

“So it’s my own fault?” Sirius says. “Brilliant. That’s brilliant.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea.” James finally stops leaning against the bedpost for support and sits down as well. “Just badly executed.”

Sirius nods solemnly. “I agree.”

“You really haven’t changed at all.”

“So, how exactly does it work?” Peter pipes up from across the room. “Could you still do all the spells you’ve learned?”

“I suppose so,” Sirius says. He pulls his wand out of his pocket, eyeing it with curiosity.

“Or you can’t because you might be able to cast those spells, but you can’t remember the exact execution,” Remus says, “and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t try it out right now.”

The paper ship slowly sails around Sirius’ head and then disappears behind a curtain. “I feel like my brain is about to turn into mush.”

“Hopefully it won’t,” James says. “But hey, it’ll be fine.” Remus has lost count of how many times James has said that tonight. “No one will even notice. Just pretend that you know everyone.”

“Right,” Sirius says. “Shouldn’t you guys still fill me in on, I don’t know, the most important stuff?”

“Maybe we should just go to bed,” Remus suggests, mainly because he’s exhausted and isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep his eyes open, “and hope that the potion will have worn off by tomorrow morning.”

He has a feeling that they won’t be that lucky, it should take at least twelve, if not twenty-four hours, but Remus is willing to hold on to any shred of hope right now. All he wants is a quiet weekend and enough time to finish all the homework he couldn’t do because of the full moon earlier that week.

Surprisingly, Sirius doesn’t seem to be opposed to the idea of succumbing to unconsciousness. Remus can’t even imagine how confused he must be right now. Sirius shoots him a sidelong glance.

Remus nods at the bed next to his. “That one’s yours.”

Sirius jumps up, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Yes, I knew that.”

“’Course you did,” Remus mutters and trudges off towards their bathroom, Sirius following in what he must assume is an inconspicuous manner.

He watches Sirius flounder, just for a moment, because he doesn’t seem to know which toothbrush is his. Remus knows that he shouldn’t find this so funny, Sirius, walking around the world with a perpetually confused expression on his face, but it’s Sirius’ own fault in the end, so Remus doesn’t have to feel guilty about the smirk that he’s not able to wipe off his face.

James doesn’t even try to hold back and bursts out laughing when Sirius goes on a quest to find his pyjamas only to be told that he does, in fact, usually reject the very idea of pyjamas unless it’s the dead of winter and he’d end up freezing otherwise.

Sirius only shrugs upon hearing that and then slips into bed in his boxers and his shirt, lying there with his eyes wide open, the covers pulled up to his chin.

“Everything okay?” Remus asks, hovering next to Sirius’ bed.

Sirius nods. “I’m okay.”

“Okay,” Remus echoes and goes to bed, drawing the curtains with the vain hope that he might get to sleep in tomorrow.

He can hear James whisper something, then Peter giggles. Remus closes his eyes. He’s spent the last couple of years perfecting the art of sleeping even when no one else in his dormitory is asleep. It works seventy percent of the time, approximately, which is a pretty good success rate if you ask him.

Today his friends apparently aren’t in the mood to cause a ruckus, though, and the voices die down quickly. Remus is almost asleep when Sirius says, “I can’t believe I’m in _Gryffindor_.”

“Shut up, Padfoot,” James says cheerfully.

There’s a pause then, “What did you just call me?”

“It’s a nickname, Sirius, just go with it.”

“How did you get Padfoot from Sirius, though?”

“Someone who has more patience than I do should explain this,” James says loudly. “Actually, lets just hope you remember tomorrow.”

“No, really, I’m intrigued.”

“Seriously, shut up,” Peter says, sounding amused more than anything else.

They all fall silent again and Remus once again thinks that they might have made it to the point where everyone has accepted that everyone is going to sleep, but then Sirius clears his throat.

“What?” Remus asks.

“Why does my bed smell like dog?”

That has James and Peter in hysterics and even Remus, tired as he is, can’t help but grin into the darkness. “We’ll explain tomorrow?”

“Do I have a dog? I didn’t know you could have a dog at Hogwarts. Not that my mother would approve of me owning a dog.” Sirius sounds positively gleeful. “I’m in Gryffindor and I have a dog. What else am I doing that my family would mindlessly hate?” He pauses for a moment. “Are you guys purebloods?”

“I don’t know, Moony, are you a pureblood?”

“Who’s Moony?”

Remus laughs. “Moony is trying to sleep.”

“No, really, what’s up with the nicknames around here?”

“Suddenly I’m fast asleep,” James says, followed by a string of incredibly fake snores.

Remus smiles into his pillow. “Me too.”

“Me three,” Peter says.

“Fine, be like that,” Sirius grumbles.

Silence falls again and this time Remus drifts off to sleep, successfully blocking out Sirius, tossing and turning, and James, still fake-snoring, and Peter, who is _really_ snoring. He thinks he hears Sirius sigh, but he can’t be sure. He tries not to think about Sirius right before he falls asleep; it hasn’t worked out in his advantage in the past.

Remus sleeps reasonably well and doesn’t wake up until he hears hushed voices and the distinct shuffling of people leaving for breakfast. It seems that his friends are doing him the favour of not waking him up – they’re only ever so generous the weekend after the full moon. On any other Saturday morning someone would have pulled open the curtains and jumped into his bed with a shout by now.

The curtains are pulled to the side, a while later, and more tentatively than Remus is used to. Sirius clears his throat. “Remus?”

Remus hums in reply. He’s been awake for a bit, but not even the promise of breakfast can convince him to leave the warmth of his bed. Not yet at least.

“It seems that my memories haven’t returned to me yet,” Sirius says lowly.

“Well, Madame Pomfrey said she wasn’t sure how long it would take,” Remus says. He sits up and rubs his eyes. Now that he gets a good look at Sirius, he realises that he looks a bit more crumpled than usual. “I’m sure it’ll all be back to normal soon.”

“I was up all night trying to remember things,” Sirius says. He sits down at the end of Remus’ bed, legs drawn up against his chest. “You know, I’m looking at you and I think that there’s stuff I should know about you, but every time I try to think about it, it just slips away.”

Remus isn’t really sure what to say. Another _it’ll be fine_ probably won’t make Sirius feel much better. He frowns. Something about Sirius looks off. Remus realises that he’s _staring_ , but he’s trying to figure out what exactly is different about him today, so it’s justified. Sirius doesn’t even notice, he just picks at the frayed sleeve of his jumper. No, not his jumper, actually. It’s Remus’ jumper. And Remus is pretty sure that he’s having a stroke, or at least he’s not equipped to deal with something like that this early in the morning.

“What?” Sirius asks eventually.

“Nothing,” Remus says. It comes out rather feeble. Sirius probably found it lying around somewhere between their beds and thought it was his. Remus doesn’t really have the heart to tell him. It’s just a jumper, anyway.

“Right, so I hear there’s breakfast?” Sirius says, his tone conversational.

“In the Great Hall,” Remus says. He bites his lip. “And you don’t know where that is.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “I told James and Peter that I’d meet them downstairs, but I just realised that I’d probably get lost on the way.”

“It’s hard to miss,” Remus says, already climbing out of bed. “Just give me a minute, I’ll come with you.”

Sirius, at least, seems to be in a good mood otherwise. It’s not a given, especially since last summer. Remus leads Sirius through the portrait hole and down the stairs. It actually would have been pretty likely for Sirius to get lost on his way to breakfast, since Sirius probably can’t remember that the staircases change and that they’re riddled with trick steps.

“So,” Sirius says, “anything important I should know?”

Remus isn’t sure what to tell him. There are so many things, even just little things, that might be important, depending on who Sirius ends up talking to. “You and Regulus,” Remus mumbles, “you aren’t…”

“Not the best of friends, I imagine? Figures.” Sirius shrugs, brow creased. “I’m in Gryffindor after all. Anything else?”

“Well, you’re definitely over not getting sorted into Slytherin,” Remus says lightly.

“Is that you telling me, very subtly, that you want me to shut up about having disgraced my family?”

“Certainly not,” Remus says.

Sirius smirks. “Any people I should remember?”

“No, the ladies are used to you forgetting their names.”

“I like you,” Sirius says and gives him a nudge.

Remus nudges him back. “We’ve been friends for nearly six years, of course you like me.” He really tries to be casual about this. And he really doesn’t want to think about what Sirius’ words have done to his pulse just now. Honestly, he’s being ridiculous, they are friends, just friends. And Sirius, whatever he says, should be doing nothing at all to his pulse.

“Here we are,” Remus says when they reach the Great Hall.

“Whoa,” Sirius whispers, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It really looks like that. You know, like everyone says? With the sky and all.”

“If you don’t want people to know what happened to you, you might want to direct your gaze elsewhere,” Remus mutters and pulls Sirius along to the Gryffindor table, where they join James and Peter, both of them nearly done with breakfast.

“We thought you might have got lost,” James says when Sirius sits down across from him. “Glad you didn’t.” He eyes Sirius’ – well, Remus’ – jumper for a long moment, but thankfully doesn’t comment. Remus can only hope that no one else will notice that Sirius isn’t wearing his own clothes, even though it’s so glaringly obvious.

Remus can see Lily, sitting not too far from them, staring at them with suspicion. Sirius’ eyes are back on the ceiling, like he’s seeing it for the first time. Which he is, in a way.

Sirius yelps all of a sudden, glaring at James. “What was that for?”

“You’re acting like a first year on his way to the sorting,” James says dryly. He shovels a generous amount of scrambled eggs onto Sirius’ plate.

“It just looks really cool, ‘s all” Sirius says, his voice low. He casts one last glance at the overcast sky on the ceiling, then he turns his attention to his scrambled eggs.

“So, what are we going to do with him?” James asks.

“I’m sitting right here.”

“Yeah, the problem remains.”

“I have homework to catch up on,” Remus mutters and helps himself to some cereal.

James groans. “I have Quidditch practice.”

“I have,” Peter shrugs, “a thing.”

“Snogging that Hufflepuff girl is not _that_ important.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I can take care of myself, you know?” Sirius says and almost knocks over his pumpkin juice. “Really. I won’t talk to anyone. No one will know.”

Someone behind them clears their throat. Remus can tell that it’s Professor McGonagall, mostly by the overly-bright smile on James’ face. Sirius turns around, looking at her with wide eyes. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully.

Remus chokes on his cereal. He can hear McGonagall huff.

“Potter, Black. My office. After breakfast.”

“Sure thing, Professor,” James says. “Can’t wait. No finer way to spend a Saturday morning.”

Professor McGongall doesn’t dignify that with a response and walks off, not without bestowing James with an exasperated look.

“Scary,” Sirius whispers to what remains of his scrambles eggs.

James and Sirius leave once Sirius has finished his breakfast and Remus and Peter make their way back up to the common room, which is where James and Sirius catch up with them half an hour later.

“She can’t prove _anything_ ,” James says, rather gleeful now. “We didn’t even get detention or anything.”

Sirius laughs. “It was really helpful that I couldn’t remember anything.”

“She was suspicious, naturally,” James says and sinks into an empty armchair with a sigh. He seems to want to say something else, but then Lily climbs through he portrait hole and he’s distracted instantly. “She looked at us.”

“She looked at Sirius,” Remus mutters, keeping his eyes on his book, “because he’s acting really weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” Sirius says gruffly.

“You keep looking around like you don’t know where you are,” Remus says. He can feel Sirius’ eyes on him now and he looks up briefly. “You’re also not as loud as you usually are. I suppose it unsettles people.”

Sirius only frowns at him, for an uncomfortably long time, until James gets out his wizard’s chess and gives Sirius a nudge. “You still remember how to play, right?”

It seems that he does, so Remus goes back to reading up on what he missed in Defence Against the Dark Arts last week, although that’s actually the only subject that he’s usually not too worried about.

While James and Sirius play, the insults they throw at each other’s heads steadily grow louder and more creative – at least nothing has changed there – but Remus can still feel Sirius’ eyes resting on him every now and again. He tries to ignore it, but Sirius is unbelievably hard to ignore, no matter the circumstances.

When James hurls a knight Remus’ way and it hits him right in the temple, Remus makes an effort to entirely disappear behind his book. It has the most welcome side-effect that he can’t see Sirius anymore, not even out of the corner of his eye.

“Should I be doing homework?” Sirius asks.

“No,” Peter and James say at the same time.

“You always leave it until Sunday night and then annoy the hell out of me,” Remus throws in. “Us,” he corrects quickly.

“Well, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing for homework,” Sirius says.

“We should exploit that,” James says, thoughtful. Remus doesn’t like it when he sounds thoughtful. It ends with people losing their memories, or something equally unfortunate. Remus hasn’t forgotten that his feet were green for a whole month in second year. And before that had happened, James had definitely looked _extremely_ thoughtful.

Remus seriously considers relocating to the library, but if he does, he’ll probably miss lunch. He tends to get distracted by books. Well, he knows where the kitchens are, so it doesn’t matter if he misses lunch. Even though it’s usually James and Sirius who sneak downstairs for food, Remus usually also leaves laden with food for at least half a dozen people when he goes downstairs on his own.  

“What are you reading?” The sofa bounces and Sirius’ hair, and Sirius’ eyes, appear from behind Remus’ book.

“Homework,” Remus says. He doesn’t like that Sirius, and his eyes, are so close. They’re nice eyes, admittedly, very nice eyes. Remus doesn’t want to look at them for a prolonged amount of time. Because they’re nice. And it doesn’t really make any sense, except that it does.

“Should I be reading that?”

“I think you already did,” Remus mutters. He glances at James, who’s now playing chess with Peter. “On second thought, you probably didn’t. You probably don’t want to.”

“Okay, stop reading,” Sirius says. He grins. “I’ve already figured out several things on my own. I’m incredibly handsome and everyone loves me, except the redhead that James keeps staring at.”

“She thinks you’re obnoxious,” Remus says lightly.

“That’s hurtful,” Sirius muses, but he doesn’t look too hurt.

“Forgive me, I should have found another way to break it to you.”

Sirius’ lips twitch. He rests his chin on Remus’ drawn-up knees. “So, what’s up with the nicknames? You said you’d tell me.”

“Is there any point at all in telling you when you’re going to remember tomorrow anyway?”

“It’s so strange, though,” Sirius whispers. “I swear, there’s something I should know about you.”

James, who seems to have been listening in on their conversation, laughs.

“There are several things you should know about all of us,” Remus says. There are several things that he doesn’t want to explain to Sirius right now. Not only because they’re in the common room and you never know who’s listening in, but also – and Remus really doesn’t like to admit it – because he’s scared. He shouldn’t be, because Sirius already knows, he knows that Remus is a werewolf and he doesn’t care.

Remus somehow makes it through lunch without having to answer any unwelcome questions and James and Peter also seem to find it hilarious to leave Sirius in the dark about certain things. By now they’ve all made it past the _we’re worried about Sirius_ stage and have entered the _time to take the piss_ stage.

“You once got off with her,” James nods at some random Ravenclaw girl that Remus is sure neither of them have ever even spoken to. “Apparently it wasn’t the best experience of her life. Told everyone how terrible it was.” He shakes his head with a sad sigh.

Sirius looks mightily offended at that – really, his personality is still very much intact underneath all the confusion.

After lunch, Remus gets all his unfinished homework and retreats to the library. Quite frankly, he doesn’t only like the books, he also likes the silence. Madame Pince doesn’t look particularly surprised to see him, even though it’s Saturday afternoon and the library is mostly void of students.

Remus gathers an armful of books he thinks might turn out to be helpful and then wanders over to his favourite seat by the window, where he spends a few quiet hours, his thoughts only wandering when he takes a break between his Charms essay and the reading for Herbology that he would have done while he was still in the hospital wing if Sirius hadn’t kept snatching away his book, insisting that doing homework could in no way be considered resting.

When he returns to the common room, it’s fairly empty, and Sirius, James, and Peter are nowhere in sight. He catches Lily’s eye as he looks around. “Do you know where–”

“They’re not here, obviously,” Lily says. “As you can see no one is screaming and nothing’s on fire.”

Remus smirks. Well, he should have suspected that asking Lily would lead absolutely nowhere, but Lily smirks back at him and Remus, just for a moment, revels in the thought of telling James that he did, however briefly, interact with Lily to see if it makes his head explode.

He takes his finished essays back upstairs and checks their map, which is still very much in development and is refusing to show him anything other than the third floor at the moment. And James, Sirius and Peter are, as it seems, not on the third floor. Remus carefully puts the map back in its hiding place and ends up in bed with a book. They’ll come back to the tower eventually and Remus chooses, for the time being, to believe that Sirius is in good hands.

Remus isn’t even sure why he’s worried. Sirius is perfectly fine and the worst thing that could happen is that he actually gets lost in the castle. Which has happened before. On several occasions. In the middle of the night. To all of them. They always found their way back in the end. Anyway, the potion should start to wear off soon, so Remus can stop thinking about Sirius now.

He starts reading, getting distracted only a moment later when he hears footsteps on the staircase outside, but whoever is coming up the stairs seems to be headed for another dormitory, so Remus goes back to reading. He makes it through half a chapter, now completely engrossed in the book, then the door flies open.

“It’s your turn now,” James announces and then makes his way over to his trunk, stumbling out of his clothes on the way. Right, Quidditch practice.

Sirius appears in the doorway, watching James with an amused expression.

“What do you mean, it’s my turn?” Remus asks.

“Sirius,” James only says. He pulls on his Quidditch robes. “McGonagall said not to let him wander around on his own this morning, didn’t I mention that?” He holds up his broom. “Anyway, I have to go. So it’s your turn.”

“Where’s Peter?”

“Probably snogging the Hufflepuff.” James shrugs. “Have fun, kids,” he shouts and then he squeezes past Sirius and he’s gone.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Sirius says and flops down on Remus’ bed. “I’ll just sit here and you can keep reading. Pretend I’m not here.”

Remus raises his eyebrows at him. “Really?”

“Really,” Sirius says.

This is definitely not going to work. Sirius might not know this at the moment, but sitting still and doing nothing isn’t something he’s particularly good at. Remus shoots him another glance and then goes back to reading. He’s made it through half a page when Sirius sighs loudly.

Remus looks up. Sirius is leaning against one of the bedposts, staring out the window, doing his very best to look like he’s perfectly fine right there, even though sitting like that can’t be comfortable. And looking out the window probably isn’t that exciting either. He doesn’t react when Remus looks up, though, so Remus turns his attention back to his book.

He can hear Sirius shift around every two seconds and about a minute later Sirius sighs again. Then he drapes himself across the bed, feet dangling off the edge. Another sigh. Remus glances at him over the edge of his book. Not much longer now. Remus isn’t sure what’s going to happen, but Sirius is certainly bored enough to do something other than shifting around and sighing.

As Remus suspected, Sirius starts drumming his fingers on the wooden bedpost. There’s no rhythm to it. He sighs again. Kicks off his shoes. Rolls onto his stomach.

“So…” Sirius finally says.

Remus puts down his book. “Yes?”

“How’s your book?”

“It’s all right.”

“And did you get all your homework done?” Sirius asks.

“Pretty much all of it,” Remus says. He tries to keep his amusement out of his voice, but Sirius is in _pay attention to me_ mode now, even though he seems to be trying to keep it casual.

Sirius hums. Remus picks up his book again. He hasn’t even made it through a whole sentence when Sirius clears his throat.

“Hm?” Remus picks up his bookmark.

“I just keep wondering…” Sirius narrows his eyes at him. “I feel like I forgot something important.”

“The past few years of your life are pretty important, I would say.”

“About you, I mean,” Sirius says. “I feel like I forgot something important _about you_.” He picks at his jumper again, like Remus always does. There’s a reason the sleeves are frayed. “You should tell me stuff about yourself. James did.”

“Did he,” Remus says flatly. He doesn’t even ask what James told him, chances are that not even half of it was true.

Sirius smirks, like he knows.

“We can go downstairs if you want,” Remus suggests. It’s not that he minds being up here with Sirius, but right now he’s a little scared that Sirius might start asking questions again if he isn’t sufficiently entertained.

“Nah,” Sirius only says. He sits up, legs crossed. “Seriously, tell me something about you. Anything.”

Remus bites his lip. He’s not sure why he’s so reluctant to tell Sirius that he’s a werewolf, he knows already and he’s fine with it. This is the exact same Sirius, just with a modified memory. In the end, he’s the same person who became an Animagus to keep him company every full moon. He’s the same Sirius who sneaks into the hospital wing the day after and leaves chocolate on the nightstand before he slips out the door, hidden under James’ cloak.

At first Remus suspected that he just does it because he feels guilty about a certain incident involving Snape, but it’s been over a year and Sirius still comes by every month, sits on Remus’ bed and keeps him company for a while, until Remus falls asleep, or until Remus tells him to go to bed.

Still, Remus would rather just wait until Sirius remembers on his own. “I like chocolate,” Remus says, so Sirius will finally stop looking at him expectantly.

“That’s nice,” Sirius says, “very nice. Not that exciting, but oh well.”

“I just doesn’t make sense to…” Remus trails off with a sigh. This isn’t really about Sirius wanting to know more about Remus, because he knows just as well that it’ll all come back to him, this is a simple matter of Sirius being bored. “Actually, there’s something you might like.” He gets the map and drops it in Sirius’ lap.

“And this is what exactly?”

“Oh, you’ll figure it out,” Remus says, sitting down next to Sirius. He joins him in staring down at the map. It still only shows the third floor, but the footsteps are moving, even though some of the names are blank. “It’s a work in progress.”

“This is a map,” Sirius says, poking at a nameless pair of feet, standing in an empty classroom with the feet of one Peter Pettigrew. There’s really no doubt about what’s going on there, given the proximity of their footsteps on the map. “It’s Hogwarts? The third floor of Hogwarts. How does it work?”

“Oh, it’s… a bunch of spells. And counter-spells. I tried to keep track in case something goes wrong and we need to reverse it, but at this point I’m sure I’ve missed a couple.”

“This is brilliant,” Sirius says. “It’s the entire castle?”

“Not yet,” Remus says. Late night explorations might still be in order so they can complete it. They also need to figure out the problem with the names.

“I want to see where I am,” Sirius says to the map, but the map doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Sirius pulls out his wand and pokes at it. Remus has no idea what he’s doing, but it seems to be working, because after a moment the rest of the map reappears.

“I think it was my fault that it was only showing the third floor.”

“You think?”

“I know,” Sirius says, lips twitching, “although I can’t remember why. Yet.”

“Oh,” Remus says. “Well, at least now we know that it’s all coming back.”

“It could come back a little faster,” Sirius says. “I really want to know what it is that I forgot about you. And you don’t seem to want to tell me. Which is strange, because why wouldn’t you want to tell me something that I already know anyway?”

“As I said, it wouldn’t make any sense.”

Sirius looks at him and it’s then that Remus notices how close they actually are, both bent over the map. “Fine,” Sirius says and then looks back down to find them on the parchment, the footsteps labelled with their names in Gryffindor tower, in the exact same position as Peter and his nameless companion, undoubtedly that Hufflepuff girl who doesn’t seem to have a name. Although he and Sirius are just sitting here and Peter and his girlfriend are probably not just sitting in an empty Transfiguation classroom just for the hell of it.

Thankfully, Remus was right about the map and it keeps Sirius busy for a while as he traces the way from Gryffindor Tower down to the Great Hall and rediscovers secret passageways that lead out of the castle. Remus watches him, not even annoyed that his book is lying forgotten on his pillow. He likes looking at Sirius. Which is a bit embarrassing, really.

After a while, Sirius looks up again and Remus holds his gaze, even though he feels like Sirius caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. Sirius doesn’t say anything, then he reaches out, one finger slowly running along the scar on Remus’ cheek. His hand freezes. “I can turn into a dog,” he says.

Remus clears his throat. “Remembered that, huh?”

Sirius drops his hand and Remus isn’t sure if he’s glad or not. “And you’re a…”

“Yes,” Remus says.

“Oh,” Sirius says.

“Now you know,” Remus mutters. “See, I told you that you’d remember.”

“But that’s not what I…” Sirius shakes his head. “You were scared of telling me.”

“I wasn’t. It’s just a long story and I didn’t feel much like telling it again.”

“No, you were,” Sirius insists. “And I don’t really get it, because I already knew, didn’t it? I was already fine with it. Why wouldn’t I be fine with it anymore?”

“A lot of people wouldn’t be fine with me being a…” Remus lowers his voice, “a werewolf. If they knew, that is.”

“My lips are sealed,” Sirius says.

Remus smiles at him. “I know.”

Memories keep coming back, slowly, but gradually. It’s old ones, mostly, and Sirius is humming to himself, still lounging in Remus’ bed, rattling off things he now remembers again.

It’s not until they’re on their way back from dinner, now with James, still splattered with dirt from the Quidditch pitch, and Peter, apparently keen on getting back to what he’s been busy with all afternoon, when Sirius stops in his tracks in the middle of the otherwise empty corridor.

“What?” James only asks. A clump of dirt loosens from his robes and lands on his left foot.

“This is not my jumper,” Sirius says. He gives Remus a shove. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Peter cackles. “The colour looks so nice on you.”

“Honestly, you look hilarious in that thing,” James says.

“Thanks a lot,” Remus mutters.

“It’s a very nice jumper,” Sirius says primly and stalks off, his face red. 

Remus snorts. “How fast do you think he’ll give it back?”

“Maybe he’ll want to hold on to it now that he knows who it belongs to,” James says and follows Sirius, leaving a trail of dirt crumbs in his wake.

“What is he even talking about?”

“No idea,” Peter says, although the look on his face speaks volumes and he seems to know very well what on earth James was on about.

Remus shakes his head at himself and decides to let it go. He and Peter catch up with James and Sirius back in the dormitory. It seems that the common room was too crowded and noisy for their taste – at least Remus didn’t spot any empty seats. He also didn’t spot Lily Evans, so obviously James didn’t mind coming upstairs to finally change out of his dirt-encrusted robes.

Sirius is bending back over the map when Remus and Peter walk inside, sitting with it on Remus’, not his own bed.

“Yours is that one,” Remus says, pointing at Sirius’ bed, even though Sirius definitely knows whose bed he’s sitting on.  

“This one has a better view,” Sirius says and nods at the window next to Remus’ bed, except that Sirius is back to staring at the map a second later and obviously doesn’t care all that much about the view.

Remus squeezes himself next to Sirius, who is still wearing his jumper for some reason.

“You know what’s still not on the map?” Sirius says lowly. “The room where we hid that liquefied cauldron.”

“Oh, you remember that room,” James shouts from the bathroom. Remus can tell that he’s trying not to show it, but James is actually relieved beyond belief that Sirius’ memories are coming back like they should.

“We’ve been trying to find that room for two years.” Remus rolls his eyes. “It’s not there.”

“Or at least it’s not where you said it was,” Peter throws in. “There’s nothing up there, just a lot of wall.”

“Well, it’s _behind_ the wall,” Sirius says.

“And what do you think happened to the door?” James comes back, now with clean clothes, but still a streak of dirt in his hair. Remus isn’t sure if it’s intentional or not. “Did it vanish?”

“How would I know? It was definitely there.”

“So you _remember_ that it was there?” Remus asks.

“Yeah, Pads, is it all back now?”

“The last couple of months are still a bit patchy,” Sirius says, his eyes narrowed like he’s thinking hard. “I don’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday. I don’t remember yesterday at all, actually. Or anything about last week. But I remember getting sorted into Gryffindor, I hope you’re proud, because my mother certainly isn’t.”

James clears his throat. “And do you also remember…”

“The rather unfortunate incident last summer where my mother kicked my ass out the door?” Sirius says. “Yep, all there.” He gives Remus a nudge. “No need to make a face like that, Moony, I’m totally over it.”

Except that Remus is sure that Sirius is not _totally over it_ , but he obviously doesn’t want to dwell on the topic. “So, that door?”

“Yes, the door.”

“The door doesn’t exist,” James says decidedly. 

“What if it moves around?” Peter suggests. “Like the staircases. They lead somewhere else sometimes.”

“A moving door,” Sirius says. “I like that idea.”

“I’ll let you know if I see any doors where they aren’t supposed to be any,” Peter says as he walks over to the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“He has a date, Peter has a date and what do we have?” James says, disbelief colouring his voice. “I’m going downstairs.”

Sirius barks out a laugh. “If you ask Evans out one more time, she’ll punch you in the face, you know that, right?”

James follows Peter out the door, grumbling about never having said anything about Evans anyway.

“What now?” Sirius asks.

“Well, I don’t think you need a babysitter anymore.”

“Yeah, but…” Sirius leans back against the headboard, the map still in hand. “I’m not watching Prongs embarrass himself in front of Evans. Again. I’ve seen it too many times, it’s enough now.”

“Fine,” Remus says, although was under the impression that Sirius never not enjoys watching James embarrass himself in front of Lily.

Sirius keeps poking at the map with his wand while Remus goes back to reading. All things considered, things are going pretty well. Remus has already made it through three chapters, despite Sirius sitting next to him. He nearly drops his book when Sirius shouts, “Merlin’s pants.”

Remus groans and glances at the map. At least it’s not on fire. Really, he has to be grateful for small mercies. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Sirius says indignantly. He glances at Remus and then quickly looks away again. “I just remembered.”

“How it happened?”

“How… what? No, not that. I fear it shall remain a mystery forever, although it’s obviously Prongs’ fault, that’s all I need to know.” Sirius looks at him again. “It’s the thing I’ve been trying to remember all day.”

“And that would be…?”

“The important thing I forgot. About you.”

“No, you figured that out earlier, remember?” Remus says. He’s not sure if this is a side-effect of the potion, remembering, and then forgetting again, and then remembering _again_.

“I’m not talking about your, um… furry little problem.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Remus asks. There’s nothing else about him that would be very important to remember.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t,” Remus says.

“The thing,” Sirius whispers.

“You’re not making any sense, which isn’t anything new, really, but still.”

Sirius sighs and very persistently stares at the curtains of Remus’ bed. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Remus has no idea what’s going on, so the answer is yes. “What?”

“It’s all a bit foggy but… I kissed you, didn’t I?”

That really isn’t what Remus was expecting. He frowns. “No, you…”

“Did I just imagine that, then?”

Well, Remus is pretty sure that Sirius hasn’t kissed him, ever, he would certainly remember that, so… _oh_. “It wasn’t a kiss.”

“It wasn’t,” Sirius says and Remus can’t quite read the expression on his face.

“It was more of a…” Remus is sure that his face is beet-red. He can’t believe that they’re talking about this. “It was more of a nuzzle.”

It happened the morning after the last full moon. He woke up next to Padfoot, who turned into Sirius the second he stirred, grinning at him, saying, “Mate, last night was wild. In a good way, no worries.”

James and Peter were nowhere in sight, but Remus just assumed that they’d stayed downstairs after they’d got back to the Shack. It’s not unusual; Wormtail usually stays with Prongs, and Padfoot follows the wolf. They’re roughly the same size and by now the wolf doesn’t mind when Padfoot curls up next to him to sleep, fitting against him perfectly.

Sirius wrapped a blanket around him, like he always does, and Remus leaned against him for a moment, like he sometimes allows himself to do, and then Sirius nuzzled into his hair, like he’s never done before. Remus put it down to neither of them being really awake. Until now.

“That’s what you’ve been trying to remember all day?” Remus asks. “The _important_ thing?”

Sirius shrugs. “It is important.”

“It is?” Remus asks. Sirius is warm against him, staring at him intently. He wants to look away, but somehow he can’t.

“I would say it’s an incident worth remembering.”

Remus bites his lip, not sure what to say.

“Moony,” Sirius says eventually. He looks away now. “I _wanted_ to kiss you.”

Remus swallows hard. This is not a conversation he thought he’d ever be having, especially not with Sirius Black. “I just thought… you weren’t even awake.”

“I was awake enough,” Sirius mutters. “You weren’t, though.”

“So, you really wanted to…?”

Sirius hums and gives Remus a gentle nudge. “So, what do you say? You’re awake now. I’m awake. No one is bleeding to death or anything. The circumstances have never been better.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Remus says. He feels jittery. In a good way.

“Okay, then,” Sirius says and leans closer. He kisses the corner of Remus mouth and it’s a little awkward and also not quite what Remus was hoping Sirius might go for.

“Well,” Remus says when Sirius draws back, his eyes still on Remus.

“Well,” Sirius says, smirking at him. He leans in again, nose bumping against Remus’, his thumb brushing over his cheek like earlier that day, although now it means something, it means more than it did this afternoon.

Sirius kisses him, properly now, and Remus can hear the rustle of parchment and pulls their map out from between them, carefully setting it down on the windowsill. He’s sure that it’s a bit crumpled now and James won’t be too happy about it, but right now Remus can’t really bring himself to care.


End file.
